


backup

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cameo by Mack, Co-workers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Robbie isn't used to needing backup - or being anyone else's backup, for that matter. Fitz may change that.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Robbie Reyes
Comments: 14
Kudos: 21





	backup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentManatee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentManatee/gifts).



Most people don’t understand cars the way Robbie Reyes understands cars. It’s not something he ever remembers being taught - even in his oldest memories, he already knows where his hands are going when he’s fiddling under the hood of Uncle Eli’s beat-up Charger. It’s instinct. He doesn’t know where he got it from, since according to Uncle Eli, Robbie’s papa was known for warping clutches and popping tires. That’s not even counting the damage he could do if he ever popped the hood. His mama hadn’t had any interest in cars, not beyond knowing they could get her where they were going. So his car instinct, it’s out of the blue, and it’s rare, and it makes Robbie perfect for working at a mechanic’s shop.

Or it would, if his co-workers weren’t so incompetent. Sometimes Robbie wants to scream, because they’re doing things in the least efficient way possible, or just plain _wrong_. There’s only one other person in the shop Robbie would trust with the Charger, which he’s since… inherited. (Not quite the right word, since creating a psychic link with a car because of an inner demon doesn’t count as inheritance, but who the hell is Robbie going to explain that to?). It’s not like Lucy needs any mechanic attention - psychic link and all seems to keep her running perfectly - but if she did, Robbie would give her to Fitz.

Fitz is, in a word, a genius. His hands still shake from some brain injury he got last year, but he doesn’t need his hands - that’s what he’s got Robbie for. They’re the only two who _understand_ , but they see the world and the world of engines entirely differently. Robbie’s intuition is the perfect compliment to Fitz’s technical knowledge, and sometimes when no one’s in the shop they spend their time just tinkering because they can. Sometimes they do it even when there are people in the shop, because Lord knows Robbie and Fitz aren’t getting fired, not when they’re the reason the place is able to keep from falling into less-than-legal activities. 

Robbie would hate for Fitz to get tangled up into anything illegal. The Rider likes him, and it would be a shame to ruin that relationship. It would be a shame to have to exact vengeance on Fitz… And not only because it would be painful to see hellfire reflected in those baby blue eyes.

Those baby blue eyes, which are currently staring at him plaintively. Fitz had learned awful quick that Robbie’s susceptible to puppy eyes. It’s all Gabe’s fault, for giving him that weakness, but Robbie hadn’t thought it was a general thing - just a Gabe thing. Maybe it’s still not a general weakness - just a Gabe-and-Fitz weakness. Robbie’s not going to think too hard on that one, because lumping in Gabe with his coworker who he may or may not have a hopeless crush on is… well, troubling.

Then again, what in Robbie’s life isn’t a little troubling?

“I don’t know, Fitz.” Robbie’s crap at lying to the puppy eyes face, but how the hell is he supposed to tell Fitz he can’t come to Fitz’s best friend’s band’s performance tomorrow night without revealing that after sundown, he moonlights as a vigilante? The Rider’s been itchier than usual, too - gang activity, Robbie thinks - so it’s not like skipping a night is an option. Or at least, not a good option. 

“But it’ll be fun!” Robbie can feel his resolve crumbling.

 _We can stay out longer tonight,_ he promises the spirit inhabiting his body. The Rider makes a sound that might be an angry snapping noise, or might just be an ember popping. Robbie’s going to choose to believe the latter, even though he can feel the Rider’s irritation bubbling. 

“Alright,” Robbie concedes. “You’ll be here tomorrow?” Fitz’s schedule is wild since he also works part-time on his own engineering projects. He’s trying to get something patented - Robbie’s not entirely sure what since the other man has a habit of losing his train of thought halfway through explaining the engineering specs, and Robbie doesn’t know enough about things that aren’t cars to extrapolate from incomplete data.

“Yeah.” Fitz smiles shyly.

“We’ll talk more then.” Robbie has to turn back to the car he’s working on, and _no_ , it’s not to hide the flush on his face. It’s because he needs to get back to work.

\---

The next day the Rider is less upset. They’d had an eventful night (i.e., many souls sent to hell, where they belonged) and the Rider feels better about not being out for blood tonight while they go watch Fitz’s friend’s band. 

“Show starts at eight, but I’m going at seven to help them set up. I’m kind of their unofficial sound guy.” This is the most words Robbie’s heard Fitz string together about anything other than cars or his engineering project since… well, ever. He can’t help the smile creeping onto his face. 

“I can come with you then.” It’s not like Robbie has much else to do. Gabe’s started a tabletop group with his friend and they meet every Friday until late. One of Gabe’s friends drives him home when they’re done, which means Robbie has nowhere to be except by Fitz’s side. “You probably need more muscle, anyways.” He pokes Fitz’s bicep playfully and is surprised to find a layer of hard muscle. He knows Fitz is strong - most mechanics are - but he hadn’t expected him to be _that_ strong.

“Do I?” Fitz grins like he knows he’s surprised Robbie.

“Yeah.” Robbie sticks his hand in his pockets, trying to play it cool. “Even the strongest guys need backup, right?” 

He ignores the Rider in his head, insisting Robbie has never and will never need backup. He’d be a fool to say sometimes he hadn’t wished for a partner-in-crime, but same as yesterday, he’s not going to drag Fitz into his shit. Nobody as good as Fitz deserves to even glimpse the Rider, let alone -

Where’s that sentence supposed to end? Robbie knows, but he’s not going to admit it to himself or the demon in his skull. So he keeps bantering with his Fitz, keeps ignoring his telltale heart, and focuses on how the night probably won’t be awful.

\---

The bar’s not crowded yet, which means Robbie doesn’t have an excuse to be this close to Fitz. Fitz doesn’t seem to mind how close Robbie’s standing, though - if anything, he’s smiling more than Robbie’s used to. That could just be because his friends are much better at understanding what he’s saying than Robbie is, aphasia and all. Robbie’s learning, though, and that has to count for something.

“Can you move that over here?” Fitz’s friend, Mack, asks. He’s the sort of dude that makes Robbie feel bad for ever making the muscle comment; Robbie’s fit but Mack is _jacked_. He would maybe be Robbie’s type, if Robbie wasn’t busy looking at certain Scottish engineers. 

_Not_ that he was looking at Fitz.

Ah, hell. Who was he kidding? He’s looking at Fitz. A lot more than he probably should - he thinks Fitz’s friends have noticed. One of them (the brunette whose name Robbie can’t remember) keeps looking at him. Not just regular looking, but contemplative looking.

Robbie is pretty sure it’s her fault he ends up alone with Fitz after the band’s done playing. They’re loading the sound equipment into someone’s van and then suddenly everyone’s made an excuse to be anywhere other than the narrow alleyway. Normal people probably would’ve been freaked out to be alone in an alley long after midnight, but the Rider’s closer to the front than usual, so Robbie can relax. He’d sense any would-be troublemaker long before they could cause him - or Fitz - any harm.

“You’re a genius,” Robbie says when Fitz manages to twist the last speaker so it fits into the back of the van. It’s a puzzle, getting all the sound equipment where it belongs.

“Not really.” Fitz reaches up and scratches the back of his neck. The lone streetlight catches in his hair, turning it burnished gold at the edges. Fitz’s face is in shadows, but Robbie doesn’t need to see it to know Fitz is looking down at his feet.

“Really,” Robbie insists. Against his better judgement, he takes a step towards the other man. “Not just with this stuff. With cars, too, and your project, and…” It’s been a while since Robbie was speechless; he doesn’t talk much so he tries to make his words count.

Fitz turns, and now his entire face is brushed with golden light. He looks like an angel, and Robbie is the devil, and he _shouldn’t_ , but he leans forward and cups Fitz’s face in his hand. 

“Trust me. You’re a genius. And not the evil kind, either.” Robbie tries to force a smile but it’s hard when he knows the truth of Fitz’s goodness. He keeps getting pulled back to that, how he shouldn’t corrupt something as good as Fitz, but… he’s thought himself to death over it. Fitz stares at him, not quite sure of what Robbie’s doing. Robbie doesn’t know what he’s doing, either, until he does it.

He presses his lips against Fitz’s, not at all surprised to find them soft and warm. He is surprised when Fitz opens his mouth, inviting Robbie in deeper. Robbie had half-expected to be shot down.

He pulls away a moment later, a heat that has nothing to do with the Rider spilling through him.

“I think you’re pretty dumb.” Fitz says. 

Robbie lets out a bark of shocked laughter. “Why’s that?”

“You didn’t know I liked you.” Fitz cocks his head to the side. “And that definitely doesn’t take a genius.”

“Okay, so you can be the smart one, and I can be the strong one.”

“Oi! You said I had muscles!”

“I also said you need backup,” Robbie reminds Fitz, closing the door to the van, if only to give himself an excuse to look away. “And I plan on being that for a long time.”

He leans against the van, trying to look casual and failing miserable. Yeah, he thinks as Fitz leans against him. He doesn’t mind being someone’s backup… as long as that someone is Fitz.


End file.
